By Which We Live
by hhgbh
Summary: When a Japanese gangster finds his business being interrupted by Bushido, he calls in some assassins to take care of the young hero. Among them is the silent yet deadly Chesire.
1. Continue

It was lonely on the hill top. There was a large crowd of people gathered, but that didn't make it any less lonely.

The priest was reciting something from a book. The actual words were lost on the teenage boy standing amongst the front row of mourners. His attention was focused solely on the small grave before him. It was hard to believe that this was all that was left of her.

He hadn't realized the service was over until the people around him began to move away. Stepping forward, he stood before the grave and placed the white flower he'd been holding onto the freshly dug earth.

There were the usual formalities that came after a funeral. Guests who remained behind to talk to the deceased's family. And, being the only family of the deceased, it was his duty to talk to them. One by one, they eventually left, and the boy was alone in the house. After sitting in silence for a while, he got up and opened a set of draws. He took out a single candle in a holder and lit the wick.

Walking slowly, he made his way to her room. His steps were light, hardly making a sound. It still felt like trespassing into another person's private space; even though that person would never set foot in this room again.

The boy moved over to where the bed lay. He reached down and flipped over a floor mat, revealing a trap door underneath. Through said door, a set of stairs led down into a basement. The candle in his hand was the only source of light in the room, but this was not a problem since he already knew what lay before him.

It was a fairly large flat wooden chest, laid at the end of the room, with a simple wall hanging above it. The hanging was covered in writing and was clearly very old, but it had been kept in good condition, as had the chest. Several candles lay around the box. The teen lit these with his own light.

Placing his hands on the sides of the lid, he pushed it back to reveal a set of folded clothing lying on top of a sheathed katana. Gingerly taking the outfit out of the box, he began to remove his clothes and replace them with what he had just uncovered. A pair of black pants adorned his legs. On his upper body he wore a short, sleeveless white kimono shirt with black edging and a high wing collar. The shirt was tied with a broad gray belt. Black wristbands covered his forearms and simple laceless black shoes were on his feet. He took a small gray band and tied his shoulder-length hair in a short topknot at the back of his head.

Kneeling down before the chest again, the boy prepared to take out the final part of his new identity. He slid his hands underneath the handle and blade of the sword, and lifted it up. As he did so, he saw something he hadn't noticed. At the back of the chest was a piece of rolled-up paper tied with a black ribbon. Laying the sword on the floor beside him, he picked up the paper.

It must've been from her. Perhaps she'd written a message saying goodbye, knowing that she might not be able to do so herself. He took a small breath, preparing to receive her final words to him, and untied the ribbon.

On the paper, there was a single word written;

_Continue_

The boy sat there, looking at the one-word message. Somehow those eight letters took his mind out of the fog that had been clouding it, and brought everything into a sharp painful focus. His mother was dead, and his life was no longer his own. He looked up at the hanging above the chest. The words written there spelled out the code by which he would live the rest of his life.

The code of Bushido.

(A.N. – That's quite possibly the most serious thing I've ever written. This was just the short introduction chapter, letting you know that Bushido's just getting started in the hero business. But if he was hoping to get eased into it, he's got a nasty surprise heading his way. Find out what exactly in the following chapter.)


	2. The next Bushido

The big Japanese cities like Tokyo and Sapporo never sleep. At the break of dawn, the fall of evening and all the times in-between, there is hardly a place where people cannot be found at work or play.

For this reason, any criminal with half a brain wouldn't choose those places to receive a shipment of highly advanced, and highly illegal, weaponry. Far too much chance of witnesses; especially the kind that wore costumes. That was why this shipment was being delivered in Iiyama City; one of the smaller, less _observed_ towns.

A faint light seeped out from under the garage door of a supplies office building. The door was pushed up by two men clad in black. Swords hung by their sides. They both stepped aside as a van backed in from the road. It was the dead of night, and their employer had purchased this building legally (using fake details, of course) so there was no reason why anyone should be around.

Once the garage was safely shut up, the back doors of the van opened to reveal four more men dressed in the same manner as those greeting them. They also wore swords. Behind them were several wooden crates. The black-clad males moved one of them out and onto the floor. One of the two, who had been waiting for the van, drew his sword, sliced through the lock on the crate and sheathed his weapon in one fluid motion. He lifted the lid and looked down at the rifles stacked within. Picking one up, he looked it over, felt its' weight in his hands and checked the sight.

The van's driver, dressed in ordinary clothes, received a satisfactory nod and got out to help with the unloading. Everyone else had their attention focused on the task at hand, so they did not notice the arm reach out from under the van, and grab the driver's leg. However, they did notice his scream and the dull thud that followed. Drawing their swords, the men ran around to the driver's side of the van; only to find him lying unconscious on the floor.

At the other side, a figure rolled out from under the vehicle and, using the previously unloaded crate as a launching pad, leapt into the air and drove his knee square into the face of one of the swordsmen. The force of the blow sent the man flying off his feet and, with his attacker planting himself on top of him, he landed flat on his back. The back of his head collided with the hard floor and he was knocked out instantly.

It only took one look at the teen, garbed in white and black, for the criminals to know who he was. The man closest to him screamed out a battle cry and ran forward, slicing with his sword.

Bushido quickly drew his own blade and parried the attack, turning with his opponent as he sailed past. At the same time, with his free hand, he pulled the scabbard from his belt and used that to block the sword swing from a second attacker. With a twist of his wrists, he hooked his weapons around his opponents' sword hilts and pulled them down, so that the blades crossed just above the ground. Planting his foot down to keep them pinned, Bushido slammed his elbows into both the men's noses, causing them to stagger back and drop their swords.

Hearing fast-paced footsteps behind him, the young hero struck out with his leg and caught a third fighter straight in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The fourth and fifth came at him together and he moved around, dodging and blocking their attacks. He finally spotted an opening and slashed an adversary's upper arm, drawing blood. As the man was distracted by the pain, Bushido dropped down and swept his legs out from underneath him. The crook fell back and hit his head on the floor as his companion had previously done. Springing back to his feet, Bushido parried a strike from the second of the pair and then clubbed him around the face with his sword hilt. The man was slammed into the wall, and then slumped down to the floor.

One of the two that had received an elbow to the nose had now retrieved his sword, and ran at the teenage warrior with it raised above his head. Bushido gripped his scabbard and threw it like a boomerang. It spun through the air and hit the fighter right between the eyes, causing him to drop like a stone.

Looking around for the last swordsman, Bushido spotted him by the weapons crate – with a rifle already in his hands!

The man fired and, instead of bullets, a continuous laser shot out of the barrel. Bushido hit the floor with a roll, narrowly avoiding the laser which burned a hole in the wall behind him. He came up with his sword in both hands. As his opponent swept the laser towards him, Bushido placed the blade in the way. The deadly beam reflected off of its' shining surface and hit the ceiling. Before the gunman had realized what was happening, Bushido steered the laser so that it cut through a large ceiling fan. The attachment fell and struck his assailant on the head. He dropped his gun, stumbled forward and was knocked into unconsciousness by an uppercut from the young samurai.

Seeing that none of his opponents were getting back up, Bushido exhaled slowly and allowed himself to relax. He examined the blade of his sword. It had a nasty burn mark and some of the metal had melted. He'd have to get to work on fixing that right away. But first, the proper authorities would have to be notified of what had been going on here tonight. The boy found a phone set into the wall and began to dial. He'd be out of there before the police arrived. They'd most likely have a lot of questions that he'd rather not spend the night answering. With the call made, his job was done for the night.

--

Akihiko Hokkaido was sat behind his desk, watching a recording on the small T.V. in the upper corner of the room. It showed a teenager, in a white shirt and black pants, fighting a group of grown men – and winning. In fact, he was making them look like amateurs. Akihiko had to admit that his technique was one to be admired. Unfortunately, it just so happened to be _his_ men that were being made fools out of. The entire event had been captured by a security camera, which had sent the images straight to him.

"Do you see this, Daichi?" He turned around in his chair to face his top chief and personal confidant Daichi Miyagi.

"This," He pointed to the screen. "Has been going on for the past three months."

Daichi just raised his eyebrows in a gesture of acknowledgement. He was already well aware of the situation, and Akihiko knew that. His superior just needed to vent.

"It's getting so that our clients feel it is unsafe to do business with us."

Daichi couldn't really blame them for that. He and Akihiko had nothing to fear. They always made sure to cover their tracks well whenever they made a deal. Also, the men who had been arrested would much rather spend several years in jail, than reveal any information to the police and face the consequences. But their clients couldn't be asked to risk their own enterprises, just on their good word.

He leaned forward slightly in his chair; straight-backed but comfortable. After all, this was, as far as anyone else knew, the office of the honest Head of a museum of history.

"You know, seeing this boy in action; it makes me think that there may be some truth to the rumors we've heard."

Akihiko shot his subordinate a questioning look.

"You really believe in that old story?" He asked.

Daichi responded with a shrug.

"I don't think it really matters what I believe. It's what our fellow businessmen do. And if they think he really is the next Bushido; they're going to be awfully reluctant to risk attracting his attention."

Akihiko gave a small nod. He then picked up a remote control on his desk and switched the T.V. screen off.

"Well, if that's the case, then we're just going to have to remove the risk."

"I'll get right on it." Daichi stood, gave a small bow and left the room.

Akihiko leant back in his chair and rubbed his clean-shaven chin. A real Bushido; a living relic. Maybe after he'd had the boy killed, he could put an exhibit in the museum about the famous line of warriors. It'd make a great attraction for the kids.

--

Wen Ch'ang walked along the simple stone path set in his spacious garden. He liked this place. It wasn't as dear to him as the house he owned back in his home country of China, but it was quiet and allowed him a good view of the mountains.

Coming to the end of the path, he could see his young ward practicing a kata on the neat short grass. The elderly man sat down on a small bench. He wouldn't disturb her. The girl was a creature of habit. She always went through her training routine each morning. Wen had found that, without some form of exercise at least once a day, she would become restless. And that was not a good state for a person with her abilities to be in.

So he sat and waited. When the girl had finished her exercises, she walked over to him and stood before the bench. Her arms were casually by her sides and her face was neutral. Wen gave her a small smile and spoke,

"Pack your things, Jade. We're going to Iiyama City.


	3. Introductions

Bushido sat on the rooftop of the guest house he was currently staying at. He held his sword in his hands and inspected the blade. All signs of the damage it had received, the other night, were completely gone. The young warrior smiled proudly at his work. This had been the first time he had repaired a sword without any supervision from…

The smile faded from his face. He gave a quick shake of his head to keep his thoughts from wandering down an unwanted road. Sliding his weapon back into its sheath, Bushido lay it by his side and leaned back on his elbows and watched the sun sink down towards the horizon. It would soon be time for him to patrol again.

A thoughtful look graced his features. He had been in this city over three months now. And, although he knew he was doing good here; it stated in the code that the role of a Bushido was to protect all of Japan. He couldn't do that if he remained here in Iiyama. But, at the same time, he couldn't leave while there were still criminals at large in the city.

Sitting upright, he rested his elbow on his knee. If he could just find a way to stop the source of these crimes, then he could leave the small-time criminals to the police. The boy's eyes suddenly widened with realization. Maybe that was his answer. He was sure the police would be looking for the criminals' leader, and if he offered his services they could work together to find him.

But then… would they accept his help. He didn't know the local law enforcement's attitude towards what he did. They might see it as a form of vigilantism, although he was fairly certain he wasn't breaking any laws. The Bushido code did state that it was important to respect authority. Well then, he should show the authorities respect and give them the benefit of the doubt.

His mind made up, Bushido reached for his sword – only to pull his hand back as a bullet hit the roof tile beside the weapon.

Quickly rolling backwards, so that he was provided cover by the slope of the roof; Bushido chanced a scan of the surrounding rooftops. He ducked back down as the sound of another shot rang out. It was followed by fast footsteps and the thump of a person landing on the tiles not far from him.

The man was tall, with a lean yet muscular build. His hair was cut short and he wore close-fitting dark blue pants with a sleeveless black shirt. Strapped across his back was a sword and, on his right hip, hung a gun holster. The weapon itself was in one of his gloved hands as he moved slowly towards the peak of the rooftop. Putting on a burst of speed, he cleared the top and prepared to fire. However the rooftop was now empty.

He stepped up to the edge to see if he could spot the boy on any of the surrounding buildings. It was then that Bushido, who'd been hanging off of the edge by his hands, swung himself up and kicked the gun out of his attackers grasp. The pistol fell off the roof and the man stumbled back a few steps. He drew his sword at the same time that Bushido swept his up from where it lay. The young crime fighter stood in a half-crouch, with his sword pointed straight ahead in his left hand, and his right index and middle fingers raised towards his opponent.

The dark-clad swordsman swung his sword a few times and then, with a slight grin, charged. Bushido launched himself forward to meet the advance, striking at the man's sword with his own. Springing from his position near the ground gave him enough momentum to match the adult fighter's greater strength.

The two combatants broke apart and circled each other, searching for an opening. Neither of them bothered with saying anything. It was clear to Bushido that this man intended to harm him. Asking him why, or who'd sent him, would be pointless as he'd probably lie. Bushido had a pretty good idea who'd sent him anyway. The boy was focusing entirely on the battle at hand.

Their swords clashed as the fight resumed. The older fighter was throwing his weight into his swings, so Bushido was choosing to dodge rather than try to block the heavy blade. He managed to step back just in time to avoid a swing at his head. Before his attacker could swipe back the other way, the young hero stepped forward and struck him under the chin with an uppercut.

The swordsman stumbled back only one step, before lunging forward again and slamming Bushido with his shoulder. This knocked the teen off his feet and onto his back. The assailant stabbed down with his sword, but Bushido managed to roll out of the way in time. He then struck out with his foot and caught his opponent behind his knee. The man fell but managed to land in a roll and return to his feet. At the same time, Bushido regained an upright position. Now the two of them were facing each other again, as they had at the beginning of the fight.

The brief silence between them was broken by the sound of police sirens. Both fighters turned their heads and could make out flashing lights headed their way. Someone in the guest house must've called the authorities after hearing the gunshots. The swordsman looked back to Bushido and gave a small smile.

"Another day, then."

With that simple statement, he turned and leapt off of the roof. Bushido ran to the edge and looked over, but his attacker had already disappeared.

Down below, at the guest house entrance; the establishment's owner came hurrying out as a police car came to a halt before him. Two officers got out; a man and a woman. The female officer spoke to the owner.

"We got a report of gunshots being heard outside this building."

"Not outside; on top!" The fearful man replied. "Several of my guests said they were coming from the roof!"

"Alright. We'll take a look." The woman looked to her partner. "Let's stay sharp, Akita. The gunman may still be around."

"Not to worry, Ibaraki." Akita cocked his own weapon and put on a confident grin. "I'll protect you."

"Excuse me."

Akita shrieked, and nearly dropped his gun, at the sudden presence behind him. Ibaraki turned to see a teenage boy, dressed in some sort of modified samurai uniform, with a sword at his side.

"I think I can tell you what you want to know."

--

The swordsman opened the door to a small warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Two men were inside, waiting for him. One of them was a large, heavyset individual wearing a long trench coat and sunglasses. The arrival rolled his eyes. Clearly a newcomer to the business. Who'd wear such a restrictive and cumbersome article of clothing, during a fight? And the fact that it was night time, and that they were indoors, made the sunglasses completely redundant.

The second man was Miyagi. He looked up at the assassin as he approached; an expectant yet patient expression on his face.

"Tengu, how did it go?"

"The boy's not dead yet." Tengu replied as he sat down casually on a crate. "But I managed to get a good look at his technique. When next he shows himself at one of your ventures, I'll finish the job."

Miyagi gave a small nod.

"I'm sure you will. But my employer would feel more at ease if we were to use a two-pronged attack." He nodded towards the tall shaded man before them.

Tengu didn't even bother to hide his disdain at this suggestion.

"You're joking, right?" He motioned to his supposed partner. "This man wouldn't last ten seconds against a Bushido."

The person in question opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the voice of a fourth person.

"I am inclined to agree with Master Tengu." The voice belonged to an elderly man, who stepped out of the shadows near the entrance. He was of average height and was dressed in a simple blue Chinese robe and pants. His head was bald but he sported a long pointed white beard. He walked indifferently over to where the others were gathered; his hands in his robe's sleeves. As he did so, he continued talking.

"If I may offer my humble advice; what this task would require is someone a bit less… conspicuous."

"Now, hold on!" Trench Coat Guy finally spoke up. "Just who are you; and who invited you here?"

The old man gave a small bow as he answered.

"My name is Weng Chan; and nobody invited me. I received word that young Miyagi here was in need of my services. When I saw Master Tengu, I simply followed him to this meeting."

Miyagi cast a questioning eye on Tengu, who had the decency to look embarrassed that he had let himself be tracked. He then focused his attention again on the elderly newcomer.

"And just who was it, who sent you this word?"

Chan smiled knowingly at the younger man.

"Now, now, you don't really expect me to give away my intelligence secrets, do you?"

Miyagi tapped his cheek thoughtfully. It looked to Trench Coat Guy that he wasn't going to throw this old guy out on his ear, like he would've done already.

"Oh, come on!" He cried out. "You're not seriously thinking about replacing me with _him_?! He's gotta be a hundred years old, and we're going after a teenager!"

"Neo here actually makes a good point." Tengu said, earning him a glare from his shades-wearing associate. "No offence, sir. It's impressive that you tracked us here, but this job is going to involve a lot of combat, and you seem to be a little past your prime."

Chan surprised his company by nodding in agreement.

"You are right. My fighting days are behind me. That is why I brought her."

As soon as the last word left his lips, a figure dropped down from the ceiling rafters, and landed in the middle of the group.

Uncurling herself from the crouched position she was in, the girl stood up straight. She was wearing a green kimono dress and boots. The sleeves of the dress were so long, they completely hid her hands. Her long hair hung down her back in two thick bundles and, concealing her face, she had a mask modelled to look like a cat, complete with two pointed ears at the top, emerald green eyes and a sinister toothed grin.

"Everyone, this is Cheshire. My student." Chan nodded towards the girl. "She is young, strong and highly skilled. I'm sure you will find her more than adequate for the task you have in mind."

Before Miyagi had a chance to answer, Trench Coat Guy stormed up to Chan, until he was towering over the old man.

"Now you listen to me." He spoke in a threatening growl. "The 'task he has in mind' has already been given to me and Tengu. Don't think that your fancy 'appear from the shadows' trick is going to change that."

Getting no visible reaction from the Chinaman, he then turned his attention to the masked girl, who had yet to make a move or sound.

"And _you_. What's your name again? Cheshire? Well I've never heard of you."

He bent down slightly, so that they were eye-level; placing a heavy hand on her shoulder as he did so. What happened next was a blur. The girl's arms swept up, the man fell to the floor and there was a brief glint of metal. Next thing; everybody's ears were filled with Trench Coat Guy's screams as he lay on the floor, clutching at the sides of his head. His shades lay cracked beside him, as did both his ears.

Chan looked down at the bleeding mess and gave a small shrug.

"And now you never will."

Tengu looked at the green-clad girl. Her sleeves had fallen back down, concealing her hands again, and she was standing as straight and still as she had before.

He gave a sideways glance to Miyagi, who furrowed his eyebrows briefly in thought, and then smiled at Chan.

"I believe we can do business."


	4. Partnerships

"So, you believe we can do business?" Detective Daichi Akita had his elbows on the table; his fingers steepled just under his chin and an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

Bushido was sitting on a chair before his desk; confusion etched on his face. The young swordsman cast a questioning eye to the female officer stood by the door to their office.

Fujita Ibaraki rolled her eyes. It was obvious Akita had watched one too many gangster movies. She walked briskly over to the desk and, placing her hand on the tabletop, leaned over her partner.

"He said nothing of the sort, Akita. Now would you let him speak; and turn on the lights."

Akita mumbled something under his breath as he switched on the room's lights and turned off the table lamp. Ibaraki ignored it and focused her attention on Bushido.

"Okay, so you say this assassin was sent by some criminal who doesn't like you interfering in his business. You know that for certain?"

Bushido gave a small nod.

"I see no other reason as to why someone I do not know would want to attack me. He never gave any name, or stated his purpose for being there; which leads to the conclusion that he was a hired sword."

"What do you think you're doing getting involved with guys like that anyway?" Akita asked.

"It's my duty." The boy replied simply.

"No, it's _our_ duty." Ibaraki cut in. "We're police officers. You're a civilian."

"How old are you, anyway?" Akita added.

"Sixteen."

"And a minor on top of it." Akita aimed this comment at his partner.

Bushido's gaze suddenly hardened; however his tone remained respectful.

"Regardless of my age, I am honor-bound to protect this country from whomever or whatever may threaten it. But I do not know who the threat is at this time."

"So what; you want us to give you police information so that you can go off and play vigilante?"

Ibaraki noticed Bushido's hands, which had been placed lightly on his lap, clench at this comment. She nudged her partner, motioning for him to hush up. She then spoke to the boy.

"Why don't you just tell us what you want here?"

Bushido's brow furrowed in thought for a moment. He tried to think of a way to phrase his plan without the male officer laughing at him.

"I was hoping that you could help me find this assassin's employer, and then I will help you apprehend him."

It didn't work.

"Ha ha ha ha! You're kidding, right?" Akita leant forward on the desk, snickering like a hyena. At a glare from Ibaraki, he cleared his throat and straightened himself up. "Look kid, we appreciate your community spirit; but we can't and _won't_ allow you to put your life in danger. End of story."

Bushido gave a small sigh and stood up.

"Very well then. If that is your decision." He turned to Ibaraki. "May I have my sword back please?"

The female officer unlocked a small cupboard and retrieved the boy's weapon. As she handed it back to him, Akita sat up and cocked an eyebrow.

"Hold on. You're not letting him go, are you? There's a man out to kill him. We should keep him under police protection."

"That will not be necessary." Bushido answered calmly. "I can defend myself, should the assassin return."

Ibaraki shrugged at her partner.

"If he doesn't want protection, we can't force it on him."

"What are you talking about? Of course we can. He's -" Akita fell silent as Ibaraki made shushing motions with her hands. Bushido didn't notice as he was slipping his sword back into his belt. Akita wasn't sure what Ibaraki was up to, but decided to trust her.

"Alright, fine." He said with a shrug. "If you want to go, Mr Superhero, go. I suppose you'll be wanting to leap out the window."

Bushido opened the office door.

"Well, considering we are on the top floor, I'd rather use the front entrance." He stepped out the door, then turned to face the detectives one last time. "And I do not have super powers."

He gave a small bow as a gesture of farewell and was gone.

Akita now cast a questioning look to Ibaraki.

"Are you really going to let him go out there alone?" He asked.

"Of course not." His partner replied. "We're going to follow him."

Akita blinked a couple of times as Ibaraki slipped on her gun holster. He then spoke up again.

"So… you're actually taking him up on his offer?"

"In a way." The woman replied, pulling on a jacket. "This is the best lead we've got on those smuggling cases. But I'm not going to let this kid be the one to call the shots; ancient warrior dynasty or no."

"Oh yeah, heaven forbid you should ever not be the one in charge." Akita remarked with a grin.

"Shut up and get your coat."

"Yes ma'am." The detective gave a mock salute and followed her out of the office.

--

Tengu strolled casually along the street, his hands in his pants pockets. His sword and gun were hidden by the baggy anorak he had on. He wasn't going to go on the prowl dressed to kill; he wouldn't get down one street.

Speaking of prowling; the assassin cast an eye to the roofs of the surrounding buildings. He thought for a moment that he had seen some movement, but he couldn't be sure. If he didn't know beforehand that the girl was somewhere up there, he probably would never have suspected anything.

Weng Chan's words echoed in his head from when the old man had spoken to him before they had left.

"_Cheshire has her own way of doing things. It'd be easiest for both of you if you just allowed her her freedom. – Oh! And don't be alarmed if she disappears on you. She will return when needed._"

Tengu shook his head and glanced at the surrounding rooftops again. There wasn't a sign of his "partner" anywhere. Why did people always have to complicate things? In his opinion, the simplest ways were the best. Ergo, he wasn't going to scour the city rooftops all night looking for the kid. Instead, it was simply a matter of trying to think like him.

Now, where would a Bushido warrior hide?

--

Akita was certain that he could feel something crawling along his back, under his coat. However, he daren't make a noise, as Ibaraki was on her stomach right next to him, and she was in 'stake-out mode'.

The two detectives peered through the long green grass at Bushido, who was sitting cross-legged in the middle of one of the wide fields that dotted Iiyama. The beautiful scenery they provided meant that many people would come out of the more urban areas and visit them for picnics and other relaxing pastimes. Although, never in the middle of the night; and Akita highly doubted that Bushido was just there to smell the flowers.

He turned his head to face his partner. His brow furrowed and his expression came of as;

'Is he really going to just sit there, and let the killer come to him?'

Ibaraki's returning look seemed to say;

'Yeah. I think he is.'

Shaking off the feeling that he was in one of those old samurai movies, Akita returned his attention to the boy. His hand rested near his gun in its' holster. If trouble did show up, that kid would need help. After all, how much good could he do against a professional assassin, if he couldn't even spot two badly camouflaged police officers.

--

Bushido was starting to wonder if the two officers, hidden in the grass behind him, were getting uncomfortable. He was certainly glad that they had accepted his help, but if he had known they were going to follow him, he would've prepared them a better hiding place.

Suddenly, all his wandering thoughts were swept from his mind. He uncrossed his legs and stood up straight in one fluid motion. At the same time, he picked his sword up off the ground and slid it into his belt; his left hand gripping the hilt.

Tengu stood about fifteen feet away from him; his anorak lying on the grass by his feet. A satisfied smirk was on his face. It was just as he'd figured:

Question – Where would a Bushido warrior hide?

Answer – He wouldn't.

"Nice little spot you got here." He said to the teen facing him. "Wide open, no places for me to hide; and no innocent bystanders, right?"

Bushido didn't answer. Instead he slowly drew his sword and held it in front of him with both hands. Tengu shrugged.

"Fine. Have it your way."

With astonishing speed, he drew his own blade and sprinted towards his opponent. Bushido held his ground, waiting for the attack to come.

At the same time, Akita and Ibaraki stood up and drew their guns. But, before either of them could even shout "Police!", their weapons were knocked from their hands and they were forced back a few steps.

Cheshire stood before them; the teeth of her mask's eerie smile seemed to glisten in the moonlight. She raised a hand and the sleeve fell back to reveal a set of metal blades attached to an arm guard. Shaking her head slightly from side to side, she wagged the claw like a disapproving finger.

The two disarmed officers each fell into a fighting stance; basic martial arts having been part of their training.

"Okay miss, remove your weapons and put them down." Ibaraki spoke in a commanding tone. "You're outnumbered, and we will use force if necessary."

Cheshire didn't answer, or give any indication that she had even heard her. She just pounced.


	5. Best Laid Plans

Tengu and Bushido's swords clashed. The two fighters broke apart briefly, only to rush each other again. Tengu went for a head swipe, only to have Bushido duck under it and ram the hilt of his sword into the older man's ribs. A grunt escaped Tengu's teeth, but he pushed past the pain and aimed a knee-strike to the boy's abdomen. Bushido managed to place the flat of his hand against the attacking knee and pushed himself away from Tengu.

The assassin straightened up and adjusted the grip on his sword. The kid had sharp reflexes and was good at improvising. But there was something all the fancy tricks in the world couldn't save you from.

He whipped his gun out and began firing. Bushido leapt to his left, hit the ground with a roll and came up running. He felt a sharp pain in his right leg but forced himself to ignore it and keep going. No matter how good a shot somebody was, a moving target was always harder to hit. He kept his side to Tengu, giving him a smaller point to aim at, and held his sword over his torso in order to shield his vital points.

Tengu continued firing until only clicks sounded from his weapon. Seeing that Bushido was already running towards him, he knew he wouldn't have time to reload. So he threw his gun aside and ran to meet the boy's charge with a loud battle cry.

"Aaaagggh!"

Ibaraki couldn't hold the cry of pain as the masked girl's boot impacted with her back. She flew off of her feet and skidded along the ground, getting a mouthful of grass along the way.

Any inhibitions Akita had had about fighting a young girl were now gone. This kid was lethal! It was time to take off the kiddy gloves.

Giving his best Bruce Lee scream, he began to lay into his opponent with a series of punches and strikes. Mere split seconds passed between each attack. He even leapt in with a flying kick.

Cheshire tilted her head from side to side, avoiding the blows to her face. She moved her body in a similar way, effortlessly dodging the attacks aimed at her torso. When Akita struck with his flying kick, she did a graceful spin to the side, letting him sail past. The detective landed awkwardly, struggling to keep his balance. He turned his head just in time to see one of Cheshire's hair bundles flying towards his face. Next thing he knew, he was laying flat on his back, with a stinging nose, and Ibaraki looking down at him.

"You okay?" She asked from where she was kneeling next to him.

"Did she just hit me with her hair?" He answered in a dazed voice.

"Looked like it."

Akita pushed himself up into a sitting position. He could see Cheshire standing in the same spot she had been on when she'd knocked him over. She'd made no move except for her arms swinging lazily by her sides.

"Why isn't she coming in to finish us off?" He whispered to his partner.

"I don't think it's us she's interested in." Ibaraki spoke quietly back. "She's just here to make sure we don't interfere with those two."

She nodded towards Bushido and Tengu.

Akita shuffled closer to her, wanting to be sure that Cheshire wouldn't hear.

"Don't you think this might be a good time to call in back-up?"

"Already done." Ibaraki lightly tapped her jacket pocket. "Hit the emergency button after she floored me. We're just going to have to hope they get here before the kid runs out of steam."

Bushido and Tengu's swords swung back and forth, clashing with each other fiercely. The two fighters had forgotten tactics, in the heat of battle, and each was now trying to overpower the other. Tengu had the greater strength, but Bushido was almost blind to that. He was showing no fear or hesitation in his fighting, just as he'd been taught to.

Tengu wasn't afraid either. If anything, the boy's ferocity only made him more excited. Something about knowing that only one of you was going to walk away always made the fight that much better. It was why he'd gotten into this line of work to begin with. The assassin's blood boiled. He hadn't had a challenge like this since –

His thoughts were painfully interrupted by Bushido slipping through his defense and driving his knee into Tengu's stomach. This time however, Tengu didn't give him a chance to get clear. He clobbered the side of the boy's face with his sword hilt, knocking him sideways onto the grass.

Tengu raised his sword above his head, ready to deliver the finishing blow, when an all too familiar sound reached his ears. The sound of police sirens. Turning his head, he could already see the flashing lights coming up the country road.

"Oh, you've got to be -"

That momentary lapse of concentration was all Bushido needed. He swung his legs around and swept Tengu's out from under him. Grabbing his sword, the boy sprang upright again and the roles of the two fighters were reversed.

With a sword tip pointed at his throat, Tengu looked up at the young warrior standing over him.

"You'd best finish me, kid." He said. "I would've done it by now."

"That is not necessary." Bushido replied, his voice even. "The police are here and you will be taken into custody."

Tengu just looked at him for a moment, and then flashed a grin.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Just then, Ibaraki's voice called out,

"Bushido, behind you!"

He spun around and saw Cheshire sprinting towards him with her arms spread out at her sides. Up to then, Bushido had been so preoccupied with his fight against Tengu, that he hadn't even known she was there. His surprise meant that the female assassin was able to knock his sword from his hand with a swipe from her sleeved arm. She then performed a backward flip, knocking her boot into Bushido's chin.

As the hero went down, Cheshire landed nimbly on her feet. She flicked her arms back, letting the sleeves drop and revealing the razor sharp blades underneath. Just as she was about to strike at her dazed prey, she herself was tackled from behind.

Akita wrapped his arms around the girl's torso, trapping her limbs and taking them both down to the ground. Unfortunately, his hold didn't last long. Cheshire struck his ribs with her elbow and flipped him over, so that she had him pinned.

There was a flurry of movement, a glint of metal, and Akita felt a sharp pain in his right upper arm. Looking toward the afflicted area, he saw that Cheshire had stabbed him with one of her blades.

The initial shock one experiences after discovering they've been stabbed didn't last long for Akita. He was an officer of the law after all, and the blade hadn't hit anything vital. He swung out with his left fist and struck the girl's mask, knocking her off him. All chivalry went out the window when knife play was involved.

The punch didn't seem to faze Cheshire much, as she elegantly flipped herself back onto her feet. Akita stumbled upright, his right arm curled protectively into his chest; his left raised and ready to fend off any blows coming his way. But Cheshire didn't move. Instead, she stood in her relaxed stance again, her arms hanging by her sides.

Akita wondered what she was waiting for, but suddenly his vision began to blur. He tried to raise his hand, to rub his eyes, but he found that he'd lost feeling in it. His legs followed shortly after.

Cheshire sped forward and caught Akita before he hit the ground. Pulling him upright, she reached into one of her sleeves and pulled out a small clear vial. Some pale blue liquid could be seen inside. She tilted the limp man's head back and poured the vial's contents down his thought.

Tengu had gotten back to his feet and retrieved his sword. There were three things going on in front of him. Cheshire was holding a police officer and seemed to be sticking something into his mouth. Bushido was still on the ground, having been stunned by the female assassin, but he was reaching for his weapon; his eyes on Cheshire.

Tengu would've taken this opportunity to attack the boy while his attention was elsewhere, if not for the third thing happening in front of him. That thing was about a dozen armed police officers all aiming their guns directly at him. There was a female officer at the head telling him to drop his weapon and let the man go. He guessed that second request was aimed at his young partner.

Before Tengu could even begin thinking of a way out of the current situation, Cheshire shoved Akita's still form into his arms. The two assassins stood together with a number of guns trained on them. Bushido was crouched on the ground, staying low so as not to get in the line of fire, but ready to make a move should the need arise.

Using the technical term of the assassin trade; they were screwed.

Cheshire, however, didn't seem to share that notion. She slipped her hand into one of her wide sleeves again and came out holding what looked like some grey material wrapped tightly into a ball. Bushido seemed to realize what it was and began to move towards the girl, but she threw it to the ground before he could reach her.

An enormous cloud of grey smoke seemed to explode out of the ball. It quickly expanded and engulfed the area. Upon breathing it in, the police officers began to hack and cough; their eyes and throats stinging.

Having held his breath when he'd seen the smoke bomb, Bushido was still able to function properly and helped to guide some of the blinded officers to clearer air.

When the smoke had finally risen enough for him to see properly, Bushido wasn't at all surprised to see that the two assassins had disappeared. And, as he'd also feared, Akita was gone with them.

--

Ibaraki sat away from the busy scene the field had become. The forensics team were searching the area for clues as to the assassins' destination. She didn't hold out much hope that they'd be successful. She'd already told the Captain everything she knew. He hadn't been too thrilled with the way she and Akita had acted on their own, and had said he'd speak to them both in private later.

Right now, Ibaraki just hoped they would both be there for the dressing down.

"I'm sorry."

She jumped at the voice next to her, but then relaxed on seeing Bushido sitting beside her.

"Hey, kid. You okay?" She indicated the bandage wound around the boy's leg. He'd disappeared after the fight was over, so she assumed he'd done it up himself.

Bushido gave a small nod.

"The bullet only grazed me. The bleeding had already stopped when I checked it."

The two of them sat in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry." Bushido said again.

Ibaraki raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I shouldn't have gotten you involved in this." The young warrior continued.

"Hey. Like I told you before, it's my job to be involved in stuff like this." Ibaraki sighed. "If anyone shouldn't have been involved, it was you. I shouldn't have let you risk your life like that."

"My duty is clear. As a Bushido, I must -"

"Oh, enough with the whole 'Bushido' business!" Ibaraki snapped. "You're just a teenager. You shouldn't be fighting criminals; you should be going to school, or going out on dates. You want my advice? You should just forget all about that stupid code!"

Now Bushido was the one who snapped.

"My mother lived, fought and _died_ for that 'stupid code'! You expect me to just walk away from everything she believed in?!"

He looked away from her, staring down at the ground.

Ibaraki spoke again; this time more softly.

"I'm sorry about your mother. I'm sure she was a brave woman. But, just because this was her life, doesn't mean it has to be yours."

Bushido didn't answer, so she tried another approach.

"What about your father? How does he feel about what you're doing?"

"My father passed away when I was a child." Bushido answered quietly. "My mother raised me by herself. She was all I had."

The boy now turned to face Ibaraki.

"Now all I have is what she taught me."

The detective had had a few more arguments she had wanted to try. But, right now, they all seemed useless. Some more time went by with neither of them saying anything. She was the one that broke the silence.

"Do you think there's a chance that Akita's still alive?"

Bushido nodded.

"They wouldn't have bothered to take him if they were just going to kill him. My guess is they want to use him to make sure I don't bring help to our next 'meeting'."

Ibaraki exhaled slowly and stood up.

"So, I guess we're waiting on them then." She said. "I'll see what I can dig up in the meantime."

"It really would be best if you let me do this alone." Said Bushido. He then added more to himself than her, "As I should have in the first place."

"Look kid, I think it's pretty clear by now that neither of us are going to give up on this. So how about you let me do my job," She held out a hand to the teen. "And I'll let you do yours."

Bushido looked at her for a moment; his face unreadable. But then a small smile graced his features. He gripped Ibaraki's hand and the two crime fighters shook. From now on, they were comrades.


End file.
